Anakin's Vacation
by DarkPhoenixBC
Summary: REVISED. Anakin gets and unexpected vacation with an old companion of... well I won't ruin it for you. Rated for use of the word... moista. Alcoholism, OOC, nonfic rants abound.
1. Meeting A Legend

**Title:** Anakin's Vacation  
**Author:** DarkPhoenixBC  
**Rating:** T  
**Chronology:** 27 standard years before SWE4. Anakin is 14, Obi-Wan, 33, Rogue, 31  
**Summary:** There is a story, told clandestinely in the Jedi Temple, of a wise and mysterious woman who lives out on the streets of Coruscant, who would save youngsters from trouble, danger, and destiny. Many young Padawans found their way to her, only to have their lives changed forever by the new outlook on fate she presented them with.  
**A/N:** The following is pretty much my Star Wars fanfic opus. It basically contains all the stuff I ever thought of the Force and things like that. Things I rant about after watching or reading SW, things I want to tell the characters, etc. I'm very proud of the fact that I eliminated any romantic factors, and managed to write a fairly believable female character. (Pesky females!) 

**Disclaimer:** This story is based up on material created by George Lucas and owned by LucasFilm, Ltd. Credit must also be given to the many authors of the novels pertaining to times before and after the original Star Wars Trilogy.

The story itself may contain references to places, spacecraft, and belief systems from the Star Wars saga. It contains characters created by Lucas and other Star Wars writers. The author would like to apologize for the desecration of the events, dramatis personae, and actual personalities, both intentional and unintentional, conceived by other writers. This story is fanfiction and not intended to follow or fit into canon.

On another note, some people and events were created by me, and I would appreciate it if you asked before taking them. Thanks!

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

* * *

Chapter 1 Meeting a Legend

"There is a story, just a rumor, passed around the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, about a mysterious woman who lives on the streets of the great planet-city. It is said that she was a former student of that place, but now lives like an outcast. They say that whenever a reckless young Padawan gets lost, she will find and protect that youngster. But, like everything in a Jedi's life, there is a dark side to her mystery. For although much wisdom is said to be gained from her, all young ones that meet her eventually end up leaving the Jedi Temple."

* * *

Anakin Skywalker ducked under a pile of debris in an attempt to avoid being struck by a laser. He didn't know how he had come to be caught in the middle of a gang fight. Usually he was smarter than that. But, that was what you got when you came to the lower levels of Coruscant.

He peeked out from between a couple of bent girders. There, his pack, he could see it! Heavy laser fire in his direction forced him to duck down again, but it subsided, and he chanced a look again. Yes, there it was. It contained a precious piece he needed in it, and he was reluctant to give up on it. He decided to risk it.

He pulled out of his hiding place just and saw his chance. He could leap out, grab the pack, then duck and roll into another sheltered spot. This would work. Anakin saw his chance and jumped. Averting the barrage of bolts that came from all sides, Anakin managed to grab his pack. He re-aimed, and tried to roll for his next hiding place.

One thing he hadn't counted on was the place being occupied. He slammed into the other body with a thud. "Ow! Not another one!" he heard a voice say. He looked up into a shadowed, hooded face. A gloved hand covered his mouth. "Don't say a word." The person advised. Then the stun gun fired. The sonic sounds filled Anakin's ears, and the last thing he saw before darkness clouded his vision was the gloved hand coming up to block out everything else with blue lightning flashes.

* * *

Anakin woke groggily. He hadn't slept well; he'd constantly woken to horrible pains throughout his body, especially an aching head. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. For a fleeting moment he feared he might have gone blind, but a cool hand reached down and removed the dark cloth from his face, and he had a whole new set of worries.

"How're you feeling now?" said the voice from earlier. Anakin panicked. Where was he? Who was this? The battle. "You took a pretty hard hit from the stun-gun. You're in my home now. I'm Rogue." Anakin moaned, and tried to speak. "Mhi hmld." He couldn't quite see his savior. Was it a boy or a girl? How old? What species? "Your head? Yeah, that would be what a stun gun generally affects. You'll regain sight and speech soon. Can you stand? That's the important thing." Anakin rather thought he'd never stand again, but a hand reached down and wrenched him to his feet. "Come on, all you have to do is move. I'll guide you. You need to eat something." Anakin felt two different hands on him, one smooth and sure, the other rough, as though covered in something. His mind returned to the gloved hand from earlier.

As they entered another room, his eyes started to un-blur. They seemed to be crossed, and he shook his head to jolt them back into position. Then he tried to speak again. "Mhi nmis anekn." He said. "Eh? What was that?" he tried rolled his tongue around his mouth and tried again, this time more slowly. "My. name. is. An.a.kin." "Ahh! I see. Hello Anakin. My name is Rogue. Rogue Bleidarc. When we sit down, why don't you tell me where you came from and what you were doing in the middle of a battle between the Blood/spit and the Fiy-deps gangsters? That should be a tale."

When Anakin's sight finally returned, he saw that Rogue was a woman, somewhere in her early 30's, with short auburn hair and dark gray-blue eyes. She sat him down at a makeshift table and set a bowl of something hot in front of him. "Drink up. It'll restore the energy you lost." He eyed it suspiciously. She didn't seem to be hostile; on the contrary, thus far she'd seemed rather hospitable. He owed it to her to at least give her the benefit of the doubt. He raised the bowl to his lips. As soon as he'd taken the first sip, he gulped it down. It had an invigorating, full taste, like some substantial citrus fruit. He finished quickly, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Then he noticed his sleeve.

He wasn't wearing his Padawan garb. Instead, he was wearing a loose, light- brown garment tied at the waist, with a sepia tunic overtop. Noting his surprise, the woman, who was apparently Rogue, smiled. "Your clothes got a little.beat up. I didn't figure you'd want to wake up in them. I'll clean and mend them, and you can have them back soon. Now, let's talk."

She reached into a cooler-crate and pulled out two crystalline flasks. Once held a lightly tinted, transparent bluish liquid, which she passed to Anakin. The other had a neon green fluid that seemed almost to glow. She took a drink from hers. "Like I said. I'm Rogue Bleidarc; this is my home in the lower slums of Coruscant. You are Anakin. You were caught in the middle of a fierce gang-battle, dressed like, and armed with the weapon of, a Jedi cadet. You have the traditional haircut and build of a Jedi trainee. You're a Padawan from the Jedi Temple, right?" Anakin stared. The woman seemed to know a lot about Jedi. "Uh, uh, yes. I am. Anakin Skywalker." He was surprised that he had answered. "Yes, I thought so. I was in the Temple a long time ago." That explained how she knew so much. "Yes, a long, long time ago. Didn't like it much. But I'm here now. Tell me, who's your master? I mean, you do have one, right?" Again Anakin was surprised to find himself answering truthfully. "My master's name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." Her reaction, like anything about her, surprised him. "Kenobi! He's got a Padawan! Imagine! Obi-Wan's Padawan running into me! And what were you doing out there in the middle of a gang war?" Anakin suddenly felt rather sheepish. "Looking for parts," he said softly. Rogue didn't laugh. "Parts? They're not providing you with anything?" she asked. "Not for what I need." Rogue took a sip of her drink. "Things change. I was in there. about seven years ago. Too bad I didn't keep up with the news. But."

Rogue stood up. "I have work to do. Living isn't easy when the masters do not pamper you. Have you ever been to a club Anakin Skywalker?" Anakin, considered how to answer this. He had, at least to the ones on Tatooine, but only to a few. They were dingy places that he didn't considerably like much. Watto made him go to places like that every now and then, delivering messages and getting this and that. But a Coruscant club. He admitted that he had not. "Well, I guess you'll have a new experience. How old are you? Fourteen?" The honey-haired woman asked, picking up various objects from around the room, and stuffing them into a bag. "Almost fifteen." He replied. Rogue nodded. "Didn't think you'd actually tell me. Ok, I'll give. I'm 31. And here's a secret. Your master's only two years older than me." Rogue gave him a wink. "Mind if I call you Ani?" he shook his head. "No. Most people call me that anyway." Rogue smiled. Good. Well put this on, Ani. We're going to the _'Moista nana Teava_'!"

* * *

_Moista nana Teava_ turned out to be the name of the club she worked at. It was shabby, as far as most public workings went. But, while bearing a slight resemblance, it was rather dissimilar from the clubs he'd been to. This inside was garishly decorated and dimly lit. The bar ran along the walls, and inside, people milled lazily. A huge tub of murky water held a bunch of slimy creatures that people poked. When poked, the creatures jiggled and twisted up, and this seemed to amuse their watchers. Women and others of several races in varying amounts of clothing stood in transparasteel tubes all along the bar, writhing in tune to gaudy music. Rogue pulled Anakin along through the crowd to one end of the bar. A tall thin man of a humanoid race stood there, cleaning up spills and pouring drinks. As Rogue approached, he raised a hand and greeted her. "Ah! Narvena moiya Rogue! You came tonight! And you brought a friend. Who's this? He need a job?" He spoke with an accent Anakin couldn't place. "Terna vorna, Vewlef. He's a friend, but not for you. He's never been to a club before. I need you to keep an eye on him while I'm in the tubes. Please, no tough alcohol. I've got to get started." Vewlef winked at Rogue. "I watch your little charge. Not the first time. He can have Qoraliv juice." Rogue thanked him in the strange language they'd spoken and she looked at Anakin and said to him softly, "Ani, don't tell him you're a Jedi. Talk about anything you like, just not that. He don't care. But there's some who do. I'll be gone for a little while. Watch the tubes. You might see me!" she departed, and Anakin suddenly felt very out of place. Vewlef set a glass in front of him; the liquid was a cloudy orange color. "Qoraliv juice. As "non-alcoholic" as it comes here. Make you a little happy." Smiled Vewlef. "Ever seen a Twi-lek do the moista vanye?" he asked. Ani shook his head, and Vewlef pointed over his shoulder. "She's pretty good at it." He said.

Anakin turned and looked over his shoulder. In the nearest tube, a semi- nude reddish-purple Twi-lek, with a wildly decorated head, was pulling into an amazing and sensuous shape. Anakin stared. His hormones were raging; his head throb and he felt the blood rush down.

It wasn't like he hadn't felt like his before. He'd been this way plenty of times. But the difference now was, he felt so free to feel here. At the temple, whenever a master sensed his emotions or hormones rising, they'd remind him to keep them in check, or suggest he meditate for a while. It drove him crazy. But now, no one was giving him The Eye. Everyone else was too busy ogling and drooling over the lascivious scenes before them. Anakin relaxed, and let it pass by. He allowed himself and his body to do whatever. He took a sip of the hazy orange drink, and felt his mind wander. He looked around at the other tubes, and took it all in.

He was mildly surprised to see some of the tube girls were his age. They looked like someone he'd spar with back at the Temple. Back at the Temple.

* * *

"ANAKIN!" Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was running through the halls of the Jedi Temple. He was distraught. It wasn't uncommon of his Padawan to disappear for hours, only to return with a pack full of trash, and, often enough, a torn outfit. "I was just a few levels down!" he would whine in defense. "I needed some stuff for my droids."

And yesterday, when Obi-Wan had missed Anakin, one of the rogue droids had found its way into his quarters and taken all of the lighting fixtures. He'd found it in a corner, beating them to a pulp, for Force knows why. That was when he realized Anakin had been gone for more than the usual time.

Now it had been over a day since he'd last seen his Padawan. Obi-Wan figured he'd gone off on one of his midnight raids. When Anakin didn't return by morning, he'd tried the comlink, to no avail. He'd since tried several more times, and gotten nowhere. The first few tries he'd gotten static and white noise, then, after that nothing. Obi-Wan was worried. Anakin didn't usually go off for so long without contacting him. If he'd gotten in trouble.

Obi-Wan had been reluctant to report his Padawan's absence at first. Anakin got into enough trouble as it was. If he could avoid a problem with the Council then he was lucky. However, this seemed an emergency. Now the entire Temple was on lookout. They'd been through the whole thing, twice, with no luck. It didn't seem likely they would find him in residence anyway. He was obviously on the outside, again.

"Master Kenobi!" Obi-Wan turned on his heal, and almost slid on the slick hall floor. "Master Windu! Any luck?" the dark-skinned Jedi shook his head. "None. But our outside parties found something. Do you recognize this?" he held out Anakin's pack. It still held the parts he'd collected the night before. One side was burnt. "Yes! That belonged to Anakin. He usually took it with him whenever." Mace Windu raised an expectant eyebrow, but Kenobi didn't finish. "Oh, what could have happened!" Obi-Wan was near panic now. Mace placed a hand on his friends shoulder. "I suggest that /you/ go and rest. There's nothing you can do for now, and you are in no position to search for Anakin. Calm yourself before taking further action." Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, alright. But I'll be contacted as soon as there's news?" Windu nodded. Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged. "I do hope nothing's happened to him."

* * *

Back at Moista nana Teava, something was indeed happening to Anakin. He'd had nearly eight glasses of Qoraliv juice, and was considerably light- headed. All right, he was pretty much hammered. Vewlef was teaching him the words to a song; he didn't understand them, but they were fun to say, and he sang them loudly when the music played. One of the younger girl's Anakin had noticed earlier had come up to him, (now a little more dressed), and pressed a packet into his hand. The packet contained brightly colored pills, which Vewlef said would make him fly like a speeder and sing like. . . something that unpronouncable and sounded womderful. Anakin placed them in his pocket, meaning to ask Rogue about them later.

"_Moiya voinya lliama te vida mo qwazna viona bedechaaaaaaaa ._ . .!" Vewlef had an arm around Anakin's shoulders, the two rocked back and forth over the counters, singing happily. When they finished the song they started to laugh. Anakin laughed so hard, tears ran down his cheeks. A small group had gathered near and was clapping. Someone pushed through the crowd. Anakin recognized the auburn hair, the gray-blue eyes. "Moiya Rogue! Come here and dance for us!" yelled Vewlef, spit running down his chin in a disgusting line. Anakin looked up at him, a ridiculous grin on his face, and wondered when his new friend had put on that ridiculous hat.

Then he realized it was no hat. A bunch of multi-colored feathery things had leaped out of Vewlef's head. Anakin stared, then started to laugh, and couldn't stop. Rogue frowned and unhooked Vewlef's death lock on Ani's neck. "How much juice did you give him, and how much have /you/ had, Vew?" she asked. Anakin was still laughing. She tried to put him on the floor, but he just fell over. She sighed. "VEWLEF! I told you! It's his first time at a club! I thought I could trust you!" it was Vewlef's turn to laugh. "Trust! ME! Teara lana via! Moiya Rogue, what did they give _you_ today?" Rogue rolled her eyes and hoisted Anakin up on her back, taking his arms and locking them around her neck. "Right. Bendana vooi mweesta. Remind me not to come back. Se vong, Vewlef." Vewlef lifted a glass to her. "Se vong! Moiya Rogue!" Rogue trudged out of the Club, Anakin draped over her shoulders, as the crowd laughed at the ridiculous spectacle.

* * *

Anakin was still smiling as they made their way out onto the streets. It was getting dark, luckily, so the streets were not too crowded. Anakin leaned forward and spoke into Rogue's ear. "Rogue? What's a, a moiya? What does it mean? They said that a lot in there, and Vewlef said that every time he said your name." Anakin relaxed and fell back again. "Eh? Moiya? Well, I don't know if I ought to tell you, but, strictly speaking, moiya is a crude translation for whore. But it's not used as an insult. At least not in that environment. It's sort of like a title. Like 'doctor', or 'ambassador'. When Vewlef said moiya Rogue, it was similar to the way you address a Dr. Something. Or, better yet, _Master_ Kenobi, or _Padawan_ Skywalker. It's just a job. That's what I do; I'm _moiya_ Rogue." She said all this rather quickly.

Anakin took this in and tried to make sense of it. "So. you're a whore?" Rogue nodded and said "Pretty much." Anakin thought again. "Didn't you say you were in the Jedi Temple once?" Rogue shifted him around on her back, uncomfortable. "Yeah. I said that. Why?" Anakin's head lolled. "Uh. well if you were a Jedi once, and you're a whore now. well, isn't that a step down?" Anakin could sense her discomfort at his easy use of the word, but ignored it.

"Maybe. It depends on how you look at it. If you like your life better when you're a Jedi, then the Jedi life is better than anything else for you. If you were happier in another life, then you shouldn't be a Jedi. Me. I'm happier here. I'm not just a whore you know. I do other things. This is just a night job. Good money. But it all depends on what you think. No one else's opinion matters unless it affects a decision or affects the person who is giving the opinion. And that's for politicians to worry about." She said this with a note of finality, and stopped walking. "Can you walk yet? You're pretty heavy!" Anakin could. She set him down. "Hey, I have to get some food. You want to come in?" Anakin nodded, thinking it would be pretty nifty (!) to see how normal people lived on Coruscant.

He then noticed that Rogue had changed. She looked soft and mellow, a peach, puffy-looking shirt hung off her arms, running from her shoulders to her midriff and above her elbows. Her pants were of the same make, light blue in color. And she had cream-colored slippers on. Anakin thought she looked very pretty. "Ready? Are you alright?" she asked. He nodded.

A little bell tinkled out a melody as they entered a white-walled shop. The inside was lined with shelves; each holding brightly colored and labeled packages, in varying languages. A funny smell was in the air, not unpleasant, just strangely foreign. To the right, there was a counter, behind which sat a large, insect-like creature. It had a fat pink middle, and a soft, wet-looking head. Six beady eyes peered at them. "Rogue?" the creature spoke in a soft voice, with subtle intermittant sighs. "Yeah, hiya Tweenba." "Hiya Rogue. You come ah get your eats eh here again? You not come in ah long eh. time now." Rogue smiled. "I won't be a minute. How are your wives?" the pink thing made a face that might have been a smile. "Ah, well, that's eh thing, in't it? One of em left, the eh other died. But I got eh a new one. You gon come ah over and ah see?" Rogue picked up a blue basket near the counter. "Soon. Gotta get the eats first." She proceeded to walk up and down the aisles. Anakin followed; occasionally picking up a package to read it's contents.

At the end of the shop, large, glass walled coolers stood, displaying a number of frozen goods. The far left wall was covered with baskets of dried goods, grains, spices, etc. Rogue picked out an orange package. "These are good. Kind of spicy; little cracker pellets wrapped in weeds." Then she moved on again. They also got a package of multi-colored noodles, which Rogue carefully wrapped in sheets provided. She got some red spices, and another package; this one reddish-purple, which supposedly contained dried meat. Anakin couldn't read the label. They also picked up a little box of white powder. Before approaching the counter, Rogue also grabbed a little plastic container with colored transparent beads. "Ah. You'll like these. They fizz in your mouth!"

Once they'd paid, Rogue promised Tweenba she'd come by to see his new wife, and they left. "I've never been shopping like that before." Anakin told Rogue. "Didn't think you had. Where do you come from anyway, Ani?" As they walked through the darkening streets, occasionally taking alleys and descending to the lower levels, Anakin told her all about Tatooine. About the desert that went on forever, about Tusken Raiders, about Mos Eisly and being a slave. About all of his friends, his mother, and Watto. About pod- races and all of the ships that came to the port.

When he spoke of his mother, he almost wanted to cry. Rogue gave him a soft look. "You must miss her." He nodded. "You know why they don't like to take on kids your age at the Temple? Why nine is too old?" Anakin didn't. "Because by then you've formed attachments to things, and your own ideas about life. Your life on Tatooine was very different than the one you have in the Temple. And that affects how you work with the other Jedi. I bet you find it hard to make friends. You think that if you do, they'll disappear and leave another hole in you, the way it did when you had to leave your mother and friends on Tatooine. That rough slave life left its mark on you; the Jedi never got the chance to start you the way they wanted. You already have deep passions and ideas about what life is about, and how things work. This gives you a deep understanding in some places, but it also blinds you to the bigger picture. You can never know the peaceful beauty of the mindset of those on Alderaan, and the like. You can experience it, but you cannot feel. On the other hand, while others can only experience the lifestyles of others, you know that there is a difference, and you can feel that. It's a strange thing, it makes you very different." Anakin looked up at her, but she wasn't looking at him. She had a far away look in her eyes. "I know what it's like, being torn from one place to another. I made a point of knowing."

They walked on in silence. Rogue seemed to speak in long bursts before going silent. Anakin found himself wondering if there was a chance they might be attacked by Manikons. He suddenly realized that he didn't have his light-saber. But Rogue appeared unconcerned; walking tall and erect, quite unlike most characters one saw slinking around Coruscant at night.

Suddenly, to Anakin's great surprise, she disappeared. He barely had time to gasp in alarm, before he saw her again, standing a few feet away. "Hey!" she said in a low voice. "Get over here. We have to take a drop!" he rushed over, wondering how she'd managed that trick. Once by her side, she pointed to a hole in the ground. "Climb down there. When you reach the end, let go. You'll drop; you can use the Force to slow your descent if you want. There's a cushion at the bottom. Moved to the side and wait for me." He did at he was told. He found a cool metal ladder with slick rungs, and climbed down a few meters. Then, his feet hit nothing but empty space. Trusting Rogue, he let go of the rung he was holding, and fell.

A few seconds later, he hit something soft, and rolled to the side. Looking up, he saw nothing but darkness all around, except for a tiny orange light. But with no reference, he couldn't tell if the light was tiny and close, or large and far off. He looked up, pointlessly, as he heard the rush of air, and Rogue fell beside him. "Ha! I love that. You okay?" Anakin said he was. Rogue switched on a tiny light on her glove and pointed. "Okay, you see that light? Head towards it. You'll reach a sheet of metal with a light fixed on it. Wait there.

Anakin did. He didn't know where Rogue was going, but he trusted her. She hadn't steered him wrong yet.

He reached the sheet and waited. It looked like a wall. The dim orange light didn't illuminate much. He sat down and waited.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi was troubled. He couldn't sleep, and found it difficult to clear his thoughts. He though meditating might help him get a clear image on Anakin, but all he got was dim lights, and a feeling of lightheadedness. He couldn't understand what this meant.

Qui-Gon's voice filled his mind suddenly, clearly, as though spoken. It was so convincing, Obi-Wan turned to look behind him. That was stupid, what did he expect? But the voice came again. Obi-Wan succumbed to his own insanity. "Yes Master." He said, and seated himself once more. Obi-Wan could no long tell if the words were coming from beyond the realm of the living or if he was simply remembering them from some long forgotten lesson.

What should he focus on? Not Anakin; that would only serve to feed his panic. What was it Yoda said all the time? "Fear leads to anger." That was true. He feared for Anakin, but that would only lead to anger; anger at Anakin for running off and not contacting him, anger at himself for not keeping a closer eye on his charge; anger at anyone who might hurt his Padawan. "Anger leads to hate." Yes, he might end up hating himself. If anything should happen to Anakin, he'd never forgive himself. "Hate, leads to suffering." He already knew this to be true. Once hate erupted, violence and vengeance followed. That was how wars were started. That was how death and sorrow came.

Now Kenobi's thoughts were clear. Clearer than before, in any case. Meditating on the old phrase was calming him, even if it did lead to the distressing thought that Anakin might be in trouble.

As he drew deeper into his meditation, his thoughts strayed to memories; a familiar face from long ago filled his mind. A girl, younger than he, but still his equal. Auburn hair and gray-blue eyes. She was talking to him. "You know, Obi," she must have been a good friend, he hardly let anyone call him Obi, "we're not free here. None of us." What did she mean by that? "We're all just slaves to the so called "Force". But what is it all really?" Did he really let someone tell him that? He felt he must have.

Slowly, carefully, we withdrew from his meditation, still thinking about the memory. Who was it, telling him those blasphemous things? He couldn't quite remember. A woman, younger than he, with ginger sort of hair and young, yet aged, bluish eyes. A good enough friend to call him Obi. But if she was that important, why couldn't he remember her? He suddenly realized that the actual memory might have been blocked from his consciousness, only to be opened in deep meditation, or a special prompting. That could mean that whoever it was had something to do with Anakin. He had a lead now!

Master Kenobi rushed from his quarters with the news.

* * *

End Chapter 1 

**Post notes: **Rogue is mine. Thanks to The Mouse(s) for pointing this out. No, I am NOT an X-Man fan. Gang names come from actual gangs in my area, slightly modified. Thanks to TugOW for protection! Language spoken in the club is unbased, taken from nothing but thin air, and has no translation, but for moiya.

And in retrospect, Anakin is probably a little OOC, if not more than a little. He probably wouldn't be in the least bit surprised or uncomfortable in a place like Moista nana Teava. But we must remember who I was back when I was writing this. Considerably younger, for one thing.

A pox on default spacing!


	2. Taking Up Residence

**Title:** Anakin's Vacation  
**Author:** DarkPhoenixBC  
**Rating:** T  
**Chronology/Summary/ Notes/ Disclaimer:** please see chapter 1

* * *

Chapter 2 - Taking Up Residence

Anakin was still waiting by the wall of metal. He'd been sitting for some time now, and was starting to get nervous. He felt he should be doing something with his time, but didn't know what. Meditate? No, he was feeling too rebellious, having been away from the Temple so long; he didn't want to do anything that would be expected there. Suddenly, finally, there was a bump from behind the wall. A muffled voice came from behind it. "Anakin? You still out there?" he pressed his ear and face to the cold metal, and called back. "Yeah. How do I get through?" there was a loud thump, then a scratching noise. "I'll get to you. Stand back!" he followed her order, and jumped away from the metal. With a gratingly loud scrape that echoed in the darkness, the metal sheet swung upwards. Anakin shielded his eyes from the sudden light from beyond; he could barely make out Rogue's outline through the tears that sprang up. "Come on in. I have to shut this." She said.

Anakin stepped forward, blinking. "Watch your step!" she said, seconds before he caught his toe on something. She caught and swung him around before he fell. While he was still trying to adjust his vision, he heard the metal door swing shut again. "Welcome home!" said Rogue.

When at last his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that it was not so light as he first thought. Standing in almost utter darkness had dilated his pupils so much that any light seemed great. He found himself standing in the eating/kitchen area he'd seen first when his eyesight cleared. He took in his surroundings a little more this time.

The place was small, yet comfortable, reminding Anakin of his mother's kitchen back home on Tatooine. A cooking range was set in one corner; a counter ran from one side, and led to a sink. On the counter stood a cooler- crate. Cabinets were set into the walls. A makeshift table sat in the middle of the room, with crates set around for seats. That was pretty much it, save for a few unidentifiable objects hanging on the walls, and a door covered in a maroon curtain. The entire place had a rusted look, but a lived-in feel. The atmosphere was sort of homely.

Anakin looked at Rogue, who was busy putting the things she'd bought away in various cupboards. He then noticed her gloved hand. It was the one he'd seen when she'd saved him from the gang-war. He hadn't noticed it until now; he couldn't remember wearing it at the club, and he must have been too intoxicated to notice when they'd left. He vaguely remembered blue lightning flashes, seemingly emitted from the gloved hand. He made a note to ask her about it.

"You're not allergic to anything, are you Ani?" she asked. She was tearing open the package of noodles. "No, I don't think so." He replied. Was he? He'd never had a reaction to anything, but you never know. Oh well, he'd take the chance.

Soon, there were two pots boiling over the range. One held the multi- colored noodles. They were cut many different ways, and mostly were red, green, yellow, and a few blues. The other pot held a white sauce, the result of the powder Rogue had bought, and some water. At least, he assumed it was water. Rogue explained their properties, many of which he'd encountered before, with no negative reactions. She told him to look in the cooler-crate for something to drink. He found many bottles of the glowing green liquor she'd been drinking earlier, and asked her about it tentatively.

She gave him a wicked grin. "B'jork beer. Want to try some? She asked, popping open one of the flasks and taking a swig. Then she handed the container to him. He eyed it suspiciously, and took a sniff. Instantly, he regretted it; his nostrils cleared and started to run, and his eyes watered anew. He pushed the thing away from him. "UGH! That's awful!" he exclaimed. It smelled almost like ammonia. Rogue was laughing. "Take a drink! You'll get a _real_ kick in the gut!" but he wasn't going near it. Rogue returned to the cooking, humming the same song Vewlef had taught him earlier. He went back to the cooler-crate, and found a few different drinks. He selected a pink, bubbly fluid in a strange container. The bottom was bulbous and round, but led up to a long thin neck, with a glass stopper at the top. The neck was long enough for him to hold with one whole hand.

Finally, Rogue ladled out their meal into two bowls each. Into one she put some of the noodles; into the other, some white sauce. Once settled, Rogue gave Anakin a pair of wooden sticks, approximately 8 inches long, with little hooks on the end. "Hash'chki sticks." She told him with an impious smile. She then proceeded to explain to him how to hold them properly, and use them to sort of flip the noodles into the sauce in the other bowl, swish them around, then scoop them out and fling them into your mouth. When Rogue did it she made it look easy. With a deft flick, the blue noodle on her sticks was drenched in sauce, and with another flick, they were sliding down her throat. Anakin couldn't even seem to hold them properly. "Really, Ani, it's all in the wrists." She told him. Yeah, sure.

When at last Anakin had spilled sauce all around his bowl and flung noodles all over the table, he announced that it would be great fun to watch a Hash'chki feast one day, took up a stick in each hand, and proceeded to scoop noodles into his mouth, following them with a sip from the sauce bowl. At first, Rogue looked appalled, then she laughed and imitated him.

(Years later, while once again attempting to use the Hash'chki sticks at a real feast, Anakin relaxed that Rogue must have been using the Force. But by then, it really didn't matter.)

* * *

Anakin lay in the dimness, feeling happier than usual. The home-cooked, non- simulator made meal filled his belly warmly, covered comfortably by the fizzers. It felt almost like he was home again, safe in his warm room, on a soft-stone bed, protected from the vicious sandstorms outside. When Rogue came in a little later, and whispered "Goodnight Ani," softly in his ears, half-asleep he murmured back, "G'night mom." 

In the darkness, Rogue frowned and looked down at the young Jedi-in- training concernedly. Then she let her expression soften. What business of hers was it anyway? She lay down quietly, and was asleep in twelve breaths.

* * *

In the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan slept less peacefully. He dreamt he was chasing after Anakin in the darkness of the city. Every time he came close, some new wall obstructed him, or someone was in his way, or something prevented him from gaining. Once or twice he even heard Ani's voice calling him, sometimes playful, sometimes afraid. He rounded a tall wall, and fell down. And down, and down, and down, into an abyss. He could see another body dimly below him, and knew instinctively it was Anakin. He tucked, trying to fall faster. He did, and came upon Ani with abnormal speed. His Padawan was looking up at him with wide frightened eyes, but his mouth formed an unnaturally huge smile. Obi-Wan reached out to him, but couldn't quite reach. Ani pulled away. "I don't want to come back yet Master!" he cried, and faded into the darkness. "NO! Come back Anakin! COME BACK.!" in place of the little body grew a flame. The flame grew and spread. Something or someone screamed, but was drowned out. The flames filled his vision, turning white hot. In a flash, he was blinded. When his vision returned, he was seated in a green room. Someone was standing just out of site, and he couldn't turn to see them. "He's having his fun now, Obi. He's exploring and discovering, and he doesn't /need/ you right now. But don't worry," the familiar voice came closer, and stood in front of him. He saw the being as a black outline against lime-green lighting. He recognized the figure, human, female, familiar. "I can take care of him." He sensed, rather than saw, a smile. "You remember, Friend Obi-Wan. You remember the last time, when you and I explored the city together. You remember all I showed you. Two years seniority gives you nothing to real-life experience. You remember." Yes, he did. Obi-Wan no longer felt the confusion over who this was. his voice sounded in his dream. He woke up.

* * *

Anakin spent several more days with Rogue Bleidarc, each one as eventful, if not more so, than the last. She showed him amzing things, both of the Force, and of the purely non-Jedi life. They tangled with danger, and she preferred to allow him to get involved with everything, then saving him once he got in too deep. He found himself wishing more and more that she had remained in the Temple, and taken him on as a Padawan. What good times they would have had! So much better than all the stiff formality Obi-Wan gave him. 

Of course, he realized each night, as he went over the days thoughts in his head, always reaching the same conclusion. Of course, if she had stayed at the Temple, she probably wouldn't have been half as fun a person. Life was better this way, away from physical, mental, and immaterial confines of the rigid regime.

* * *

Anakin had had strange dreams before. But usually, they were purely his. The one he was having now could not have been a product of his mind. 

He was in someone's room. It could have been his, by the make. Standard for any Jedi. Except instead of droids buzzing around the room, and parts hanging on the walls, there were only a few colorful pictures. And someone was sitting on the floor. A little girl, smiling up at him. It looked like there was something wrong with her face. One eye was open wider than the other, her mouth pulled up a bit more on one side, and one ear seemed bent forward. And her left arm was thin and shriveled looking. An odd gurgling sound issued from her throat. "Don't worry. She won't be here long." A voice said. An unfamiliar Jedi was leaning against the wall nearby. He had black skin and no eyebrows. "They're getting rid of her soon."

Anakin felt an inexplicable wave of pity wash over him. He wanted to say something. She can stay. They don't have to take her. Who are they? The fuzzy image changed. The deformed little girl was still there, but instead of smiling, her warped mouth was open like she was trying to scream. The only sound she made, however, was a higher pitched gurgle of protest. A yellow light was on her, and four bulky figures moved to pick her up. The gurgle intensified, and the girl cast a frightened glance at Anakin. Her mouth closed and opened again. And in his mind he heard what she wanted to say. He tried to move to stop the large people from stuffing her into a box. A box?

This was sick. He started shouting at them to leave the poor girl alone. This was inhuman! THEY WERE STUFFING HER INTO A BOX!

"Anakin. Now would be a good time to wake up." Said Rogue, quite firmly. So he did. "Rogue! What in the nine Corellian hells was that?" he asked. Rogue looked at him sadly. That would be one of my memories. Too long away from the Temple, I guess. I'm never around other Jedi, so I don't have to worry about projecting thoughts and dreams. Sorry, Ani."

Anakin looked at her incredulously. "That was an actual memory? That really happened? He was aware of the fact that his voice had started to squeak, but ignored it. Rogue nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. She didn't really have a name, but I called her Glug. Because that was the sound she made. She was. a pet. Some sponsor or something had come to the Temple, and insisted on this whole accompaniment. Totally threw off our schedules and everything. I still remember the pompous bastard. Anyway, Glug was in a box that one of his. servants was carrying, and when they stopped somewhere this servant put her down and she ran, or rather, crawled away, and found her way into my dorm. They didn't even notice she was missing until the next day. I found her and tried to talk to her, when I found out that her owner," Rogue said the word like it was a dirty one, "didn't even consider her human, and wanted her back, I tried to show everyone that she was just like a child. They wouldn't listen. She was taken away. I lost. Sorry you had to see it."

Anakin was too. But mostly, he was angry.

* * *

Master Yoda, head of the Jedi Council, stared thoughtfully at nothing for a time. "Not the first, will this be, that Wal-Hali the Rogue has brought us, in the past seven years, a missing Padawan. Sure you are, of what you saw, Master Kenobi?" Obi-Wan straightened even more stiffly than before, if that was even possible. "Yes. I'm sure of it." He answered, trying to look confidant. The members of the Jedi council looked at each other and passed thoughts without words. Then Master Yoda spoke up. "Investigate this, we shall. In the meantime, continue trying to contact him, you must." 

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes sir. But do we know where Wal-Hali is. I mean, has she actually kept contact after she left the Temple?" he asked. At this, he was rewarded with silent stares for a few moments. Finally, Mace Windu spoke up. "We don't know where she actually is at the moment. However, we are sure she is on Coruscant, and your ostensible visions seem to prove this. We have kept a loose trace of her inconsistent employment records. It should be no trouble locating her after we find a place she has kept regular service at. Be at peace, Master Kenobi. Your Padawan will soon be found." Obi-Wan nodded, but his dead master's friend's words did little to comfort the turmoil in his mind.

As he forced himself to walk calmly back to his own quarters, he considered the emotions roiling inside of him. Anxiety, shame, anger, frustration. and a little bit of excitement. After all, he hadn't seen Wal-Hali in over seven years. He had changed a lot. Had she?

These thoughts continued to distract him throughout the day. Luckily, Jedi Master Yaddle was thoughtful enough to send some food up to his room, lest he starve himself.

* * *

Anakin watched silently with eyes half closed, as he both saw and felt the Force moving about the little room. Rogue was multi-tasking in the most spectacular way. At first glance, she seemed completely absorbed in staring at a small datapad in her hand. However, around the room, several objects were moving, seemingly of their own accord. Last night's dishes, which had been left unattended near the cooler-crate, we being rubbed vigorously by a rough wet rag, directed by an immaterial hand. Clothes that had been scattered about the sleeping room were flying through the maroon curtain, folding themselves in midair, and rushing back. And a bowl of fruit was rearranging itself in a more aesthetically pleasing manner. Rogue held the datapad in her right hand, the one with the glove, and bit from a piece of fruit in the other. 

She suddenly noticed that Ani had stopped eating. "What?" she asked, before taking another bite. He blinked. "How do you do that?" Rogue chewed thoughtfully. "Do what?" she asked after swallowing. Anakin rolled his eyes, then gestured with his hands. "Do all that? Concentrate on three things at once, and still be able to eat and read, all at the same time!" His hostess smiled and tossed a pit into a trash receptacle. He had already learned that automatic recyclers didn't work down here, and though Rogue was more than capable of fixing up one, she preferred taking full crates of trash and dumping them down dark pits. She was very strange, but her oddities were understandably satisfying. "Natural talent. Plus a woman's innate ability to do several things at once." She smiled broadly. "Well, I'm about done, and I don't have any jobs today." She tossed the datapad onto the makeshift table and reached for another piece of fruit. "So, let's talk."

"About what?" Anakin couldn't think of anything he knew about that might possibly interest her in the least bit (that he would want to reveal just yet.) "Oh, I don't know. How about these pills I found in your clothes last night?" she pulled out the packet of gaily colored flying pills that the other girl had given him at the club the previous night. Anakin hastily tried to explain, feeling guiltier by the second. Meanwhile, Rogue's gray- blue eyes bored into him. When he finished his (seemingly) pathetic story, Rogue snorted derisively. "Vewlef." she spat. "I really should reconsider the company I keep sometimes. Yes, Ani, these little babies would make you fly. For about ten minutes. Then, with your anatomy especially, you'd probably be dead." She turned and saw the shocked look on Anakin's face. "Don't worry, kid. Vewlef wasn't trying to poison you. He was probably so drunk he couldn't tell you were a human, a kid, and cleaner than an ambassador's shiny rump." She laughed. "Maybe not that clean."

She stood up and retrieved one of her famous green bottles and took a large gulp. "Er. Rogue? Isn't it a little early to be, well, drinking?" His look of concern touched her. Ani may have been a typical teenager in many ways, but he was certainly a tenderfoot at times. "Definitely!" she said, and took another swig. "But after awhile, you get dependant. And I honestly do love the taste. One of the good things about understanding your personal freedom once you get it. You can allow yourself to get hooked on anything, and you don't care. Besides, it's healthy to have a few self-destructive habits."

Anakin wasn't so sure this was a good thing. He'd seen the heavy boozers at bars in Mos Espa. They spent all their time drowning in the poison of their choice, never giving themselves the time to get out and earn them by doing a little bit of work. It was disgusting to watch them. However, he had to admit, with Rogue, it was a little endearing. Something he identified her by.

But there was something else he identified her by. "Rogue? What. Why do you always wear that glove? I've never seen you take it off." Rogue looked down at her right hand as though she had only just noticed it. "This? Now this is a long story. And a little gruesome. You sure you want to know?"

Anakin nodded, and she sighed. "Very well then. Most of you ask eventually anyway. Go over to that shelf and get me the medium sized tool. The one with the row of bubbles on the handle." Anakin did as she said, pulling a crate over to act as a stool so he could see up onto the shelf. He handed the tool to her and sat down again, watching with fascination as she worked several clasps and such at the base of the glove. There was a click and a hiss, and she set the thing down, then grabbed to glove by the middle finger and yanked.

Anakin's eyes followed to glove, and so, for a moment, did not see her exposed hand underneath. When he did, he stifled a gasp. "Your hand...!"

* * *

Master Kenobi did not stay in his quarters for very long. He was grateful for the food he had been sent, but he was still troubled by the excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing Wal-Hali. After a long time of arguing with himself, he went down to the library to find the records that troubled him. 

It was not such a difficult task. The files he wanted were readily available to any curious Jedi with a bit of time on his hands. Once he had them, he took out a vid-viewer and loaded them in, one at a time.

There were a lot of two-dimensional images, as well as a few 3D's. He flipped through them slowly, savoring them like choice morsals. There were vids of training sessions and debates, regular class lessons, and some of Jedi at their free time. The ones he sought contained those of Wal-Hali Bleidarc. And he found plenty of them.

There were many early files. Some up to 25 years old. He'd found some labeled further back, but he wasn't looking for baby pictures. He just wanted to see his friend as he remembered her. Match up the woman from his dreams to what his temporarily ravaged mind told him he remembered. And there she was.

A girl of about nine, standing happily next to her new Master. In the background, a boy under the protective arm of another Master, smiling at them with equal enthusiasm. In another shot, the same girl, slightly older, staring intently at a datapad, apparently unaware that she was being watched. Another, blindfolded, sparing with another, unknown Padawan, as others watched on, this one in motion. Small subtitles had been added to indicate what moves were being performed, and a colored dot to indicate how well each move was executed. All were in the higher ranges for Wal-Hali. A silent moving vid of her, hair slightly longer than the dress-code usually allowed for their species, a faint trace of small wounds healing, standing next to her master in a similar state, out of Jedi garb as though they had just gotten back from a particularly rough assignment. And Wal-Hali was holding something. A zoom revealed it to be a brand new lightsaber. She flipped the handle nonchalantly backwards, then flipped it on, and began showing off. The blade was a deep heliotrope, and seemed oddly thick. She flipped a switch of some kind on the handle, and the blade widened, vibrating somehow, giving it the look of two separate blades, scissor-like. The expression on her master's face was unreadable, somewhere in the vicinity of proud and exasperated. It was common enough to Padawan's to experiment with modifications on their sabers for awhile, but few actually invented something new the first time around. Few being none, as far as he knew.

Obi-Wan watched this for awhile, smiling. He remembered that saber. It had been difficult to spare against, because the blade seemed to be in two places at once. Even if you did manage to to strike a hit on that thing, it was most unnerving. It sent vibrations down the length of your own blade, and if you held for too long, it would start to buzz, then hum in a most infuriatingly musical way. However, it was almost as difficult to control as to spar against. The phantom blades were tiringly innacurate, and she usually turned off the effect for serious duels.

There were plenty more vids of her sparring matches, both mandatory and extracurricular. Obi-Wan remembered that the younger always had a taste for art, and though she claimed to dislike sparring, in any form, she put in a lot of extra time to her practices, to make it "look" better. Never mind that she became a champion in the meantime.

Obi-Wan smiled as he went over clips from the "free-time documentary" files, showing Jedi Padawan, Knight, and Master alike, taking part in all manner of extramural activies. He could see her at all ages, reading, painting, eating, talking, just as though she was still there, although she was just about 8 her normal size. There were several in which he noted he seemed to be included. Especially one in particular, where he seemed to be posing for her as she painted a portrait of him. He studied it for awhile, as the picture on her canvas came to life. Pity, but he couldn't remember doing that. Nor what had happened to the picture.

When those ran out, however, he ran across one of the last vids in the pack. A three-D, of what was obviously a very solemn funeral. In the center was a interment pyre, flames blazing around a still body. Surrounding this were many figures clad in full robes, pulled over each head in mourning. Obi-Wan remembered this well, as he had attnded it live. There, he could see, next to Qui-Gonn. his heart wrenched as he was swirled into another painful abyss of memories, mixed images. Flames licking over a corpse; Wal- Hali's master, his own Qui-Gonn, burning, burning, burning away. . .

* * *

"Master Kenobi?" a voice startled him, and he almost yelled, causing the young Jedi who had tapped him to jump back in surprise. "Sorry!" he yelped. Obi- Wan shook his head to clear it, and focused. "What?" he asked, a little more impatiently than he should have. The Padawan looked hurt. "Nothing. It's only that, you started to. . . project a lot of neg . . . well, a lot of energy, and. the librarian asked me to see if you were okay." he took another step back and bowed his head shamefully. "It's alright." Obi-Wan felt bad that he didn't even know this youngster's name, "I'm alright. Just a bad memory. I'm fine. Thank you." 

He ignored the other Jedi as he unloaded the files again. This had not been as fruitful an exercise as he had hoped.

* * *

End Chapter 2 

**Notes:** I may not be an Xmen fan, but I _am_ a Bjork fan. At first the beer name was unintentional, but now it has a point. You can get drunk on Bjork's music. Get it?  
Hash'chki sticks based partly on Atlantis fun and partly on simple chopsticks (_hashi_).  
Oh, you knew Qui-Gonn had to come in at some time! Don't worry, it won't happen again. Apologies for the dream sequence as well, and for any "Mary-Sue"-nesses that appear in Rogue. And someone tell me, what do you call a young, masterless Jedi. Not a Padawan, and certainly not an Initiate. But that's all the words I basically know. Say, Ronin?

I'm thinking I might have wanted a beta, particularly for this chapter. Too late now.


	3. Words Of Wisdom

**Title:** Anakin's Vacation  
**Author:** DarkPhoenixBC  
**Rating:** T  
**Chronology/Summary/Notes/Disclaimer:** please see chapter 1

* * *

Chapter 3 - Words of Wisdom

It was fascinatingly revolting to look at. The actual injury began about an inch and a half from the ring of mechanisms that held the glove in place; like a bracelet pushed up on the forearm. From there, it was like seeing through her flesh at the very bones in her arm. But even that was not entirely eaccurate. Parts of the bone were brackish gray instead of clean white bone. Poking out of these areas were small, delicate looking spikes with nodes on the ends. On the back of her hand was what looked liking thing wet leather clinging to the underlying bones. The middle finger was just a stump, and the two leftmost fingers were gone entirely. In their places, on the ends where the fingers should have continued from the hand, were target-like circles with additional wires poking from the middle. This entire ensable, with the exception of these three rings, seemed to be encased in a transparent covering.

Anakin stared at it. He realized he was doing this after a moment and fixed his gaze uncomfortably on Rogue's face. She seemed to be studying it intently. "Nasty little thing, isn't it?" she muttered, and he nodded. "How. Why.?" He mumbled a bit, as about twenty questions filled his mouth and garbled themselves. "The glove is like a bionic hand. I didn't want a fake one. I kept the injuries to remind myself not make the same mistakes we did then."

Anakin's head whipped up at the word "we". "My master and I. We made a lot of errors in our mission. They cost me my hand and temporarily the use of my body from the chest down. They cost my master her life."

There was an akward silence after this statement, and Ani felt it wise not to pursue this. After a while, Rogue picked up the glove and fixed it back on, then threw the tool back at the shelf, stopping it midflight to levitate it gently down.

"Obi-Wan's master died." Anakin said softly. Dark eyes swept over him in an instant. "What did you say?" Anakin was silent for a moment, then got up and retrieved a bottle of regular water from the cooler-crate. His mouth had gone dry. "Qui-Gonn Jinn, Obi-Wan's Master. He died. Not long after he. saved me."

Anakin had realized a little earlier that he hadn't told Rogue how he'd escaped Tatooine; only vague details about almost not being made a Jedi. In truth, Rogue had assumed that her friend had been knighted fairly early and simply happened to come across the boy on assignment, and push him through the council. As he told her the story, as much as he knew, she listened, perfectly still. She didn't take another drink, didn't interrupt him. She barely blinked.

When he was done, she practically downed an entire bottle of B'jork, and retreived several more from the crate, which she put on the table with vaguely shaking hands. "I can't believe it. I should have paid more attention to the statements."

Not understanding, Anakin leaned closer. "Did you know him? I mean, did you know him, and my master too?" she nodded without looking at him, smiling faintly. "Oh yes, I certainly knew them. Obi was two years my senior," Anakin blanched at this unheard of nickname for his beloved Master. No one called him Obi. "but we were pretty good friends, mostly because our masters were good friends. He even cried when I left." She smirked. "Of course he would never admit it. But we, all four of us, were pretty bonded. I thought I felt something several years ago. Right about the time you say they rescued you. Of course I didn't understand it until now." she absently opened another bottle on the table.

"Now Ani, tell me about you. And I want to hear everything, including, if this shocks you, what you actually think about everything."

* * *

"Master Kenobi?" he sighed. He was honestly tiring of that name. With the exception of in his dreams, no one seemed call him anything else anymore. "Come in. It's open." He said, rolling over on his bed. "I apologize if I woke you." the nonhuman Knight who had entered the room said, but Obi-Wan raised a hand to silence him. "No, no, I wasn't asleep. What is it?" 

"It's the Council. They want to see you immediately."

He commanded the lights to brighten, and squinted as they did so. "Why didn't they just use the comlink?" he asked, annoyed. The Knight shifted on his feet. "Er. I believethey were switched off, sir."

Oops. Good point. "Right. Of course. Thank you, er." "Keroin." "Of course. Thank you, Keroin."

Feeling a bit stupid, but eager to hear what the Council had to say, Obi- Wan ran a hand through his hair, and stepped out into the halls. Maybe there was word about Anakin.

* * *

Said person, Anakin, was, at that moment, ranting to previously referred Rogue. When she'd told him to tell her everything, he found his heart opening like a flower to the sun. Arrogance that had been squashed in him flared up, and he was now making claims to the throne of the universe. 

"I'm to be the greatest Jedi ever! I'm going to have more power than anyone, and I'll change the galaxy!" Anakin said, proudly, determinedly. Rogue looked at him solemnly. Anakin stopped pacing and came to a stop. "Is that so?" she asked wryly. "Yes!" he cried. But his enthusiasm was spent, and his surety withered under her steady gaze. "And so this is what you are. Your destiny. It is to be the greatest. You are special, you will do this?" he plopped down next to her, suddenly exhausted with the conversation. "Yes."

"Ani, give me your hand." He looked at her, questioningly, and obeyed. She took his right hand in her left, and with her other hand, extended a razor from the tip of her index finger in the mechanical glove. Anakin yelped. "What are you doing!" he asked nervously. "What, a big boy, going to change the galaxy, is scared of cuts? Just watch." She told him. As he stared, she took the crystal razor, and pressed the blade to the back of her hand. "What do you see?" she asked, as she drew a line across her moon- pale skin. "Well, you're bleeding!" he said, rolling his eyes. "Correct. Now, watch this." Gently, she took his hand and did similar as her own. He ignored the light sting, trusting her. "What do you see?" he looked at her. "Blood?" she smiled, but only vaguely. "Correct. You and I bleed the same. You are no better than I." Her point made, she neatly wiped the blood from his hand, and bandaged it.

But Anakin wasn't satisfied. "No! You don't see! I may bleed, but we're not the same! My blood has. has. mimid.midin. Oh! I don't know what you call them! But I've got millions of them!" he turned away. Her voice followed him, soft but relentless. "Midichlorians? The symbols of our connection to the Force? Maybe. But what good does that do you, if you bleed them away? You're not all-powerful. You never will be, because if you ever became all powerful, you would have no purpose."

* * *

"You've located her? Wal-Hali? Does she have Anakin?" 

"Patience, Master Kenobi. We have indeed located Wal-Hali Bleidarc. And she informs us that she does have Anakin in her household. She will return him to us soon.

Obi-Wan sighed with releif, releasing all the vexations of the past week or so. Fortunately, no Council member commented on this outward show of emotion. A tear slipped down his cheek. He felt like cheering. Running, shouting, grabbing Adi Gallia and dancing around the room. Instead, he cried.

* * *

Rogue looked at Anakin with those penetrating dark eyes. "It is wisdom that you lack, Skywalker. " she said, drawing another flask of the volatile green liquid. Anakin shifted, upset. "I have plenty of wisdom!" he argued. "I've got more wisdom than half the Jedi Council!" 

Rogue gave him a hard, cold stare. "And yet they are the leaders, the ones everyone listens to. Anakin you do not even know what wisdom is!" before he could argue back, she raised a hand. "Wisdom," she began, then paused to take a drink from the flask, "is knowing your place." Anakin started to reply hotly "I do." but Rogue slammed a fist angrily on the table to stop him, and hurried on, "And staying in it!"

Anakin was angry now. "I _DO_ know my place!" "You do NOT! And even if you did, you would not be able to stay in it!" she yelled. Anakin sat back and folded his arms. "Fine. If you're so smart, tell me my place." Rogue took another draw at her flask, wiped her mouth, and leaned forward.

"The place of a Jedi Padawan," she began, "is to be in servitude. The greatest component in a Jedi's working is subordination; to the command of the council, the word of your master, and of every knight and master above you, and even of those that you are working to protect. You are to follow orders with little or no question. You are a servant to peace. You are to learn and train, and when you have reached the fullness of your training and are knighted, you, in turn, train others."

She took another drink, then continued in a slightly gentler tone. "But what the Council does not understand is that some cannot live that way; bonded to the will of everyone but their own. They cannot see all that is intended by the Force. Some must learn that on their own. Some must carry out tasks not assigned by a Council member; that cannot be measured in success or failure, but only in its effects on others. Not all paths are clear roads, as the Council wishes. Anakin, do you know why I left the Temple?"

Anakin shook his head. He had wondered about that, but though it best not to ask, in case it turned out she'd been expelled on dishonorable terms. However if she was willing to bring up the subject. He shook his head, and she spoke as if she'd guessed his thoughts. "I wasn't kicked out. Not that most weren't happy to see me go, but I honestly left of my own accord. Even Master Yoda though it best I leave that place. You see, shortly before I was to be knighted was when my master was killed. And soon after her death, I realized my destiny did not lie in the future as a Jedi; to die defending something I couldn't understand or believe in. I became conscious of the fact that there was another fate for me; one that could not be handed me on a crystalline plate. I didn't know what it was, still don't actually, but I do have a feeling that it will soon be fulfilled. Whatever task the Force has for me will soon be carried out."

She turned her head, looking Anakin straight in the eyes now, and smiled. "Maybe it was to give you and others of our kind a break. You're not the only stray Padawan that I've given refuge and counsel to. Maybe that is my fate. To let young Forcelings know that they're not doomed to die for something they can't give their hearts to. Some must seek their own paths.

"And yet, just because I'm telling you this, doesn't mean you have to disregard what your own master tells you. You know that I knew Obi-Wan; we trained together for a while. He was very smart, saw a lot of things others missed. You're lucky to have him. When you go back, you must listen to them. They know what's truly best for you. Especially that Yoda. No one seems to really want to listen to him." She mused on this for a moment, then continued.

"You Anakin. You're strange. I can see why everyone's so nervous around you. You're unreadable. The Force is so strong around you, it acts like a barrier to anyone who would try to see your fate. I think that, it is not yourself that poses a threat to everyone. You are not here to do some great thing. But you are a test for others; a test that I think has been failed. Could the Council resist the temptation of taking on one who, though amazingly powerful, was already well past the accepted age; a boundary they themselves set to prevent problems. The answer was no.

"I can tell that Yoda was right; it was wrong of them to take you and at your age, when you had already formed bonds to another life. You already had a shape, and the Jedi at the Temple are now trying to press your strange shape into their rigid mold. It won't work. You were bound to be great, but not a great Jedi. As long as they keep you in their bondage, you're headed for self-destruction."

Rogue fell silent, her moments of deep wisdom passing. Her eyes clouded again; they had gone suddenly clear when she had been speaking. Her words chilled Anakin. Was he really a slave again? A slave to the Jedi and their rigid ways and laws? Truly, his life on Tatooine hadn't been so good. At times it could be downright bad. But he'd been born there; the Force must have intended him to be there, as he hadn't been born into the life of a Jedi. Maybe this woman was right, it was a mistake to take him here, to train him.

Anakin shook his head. No, that could not be. He was to be the greatest Jedi in the world; he would change the universe. How could he do that as a slave on Tatooine? He couldn't! Anakin thought to himself.

"Come." Rogue rose, her flask was empty now, and she hadn't opened another one. "We've got to get you cleaned up. I'm taking you back to the Temple tomorrow." Anakin looked at her in surprise. "Back? Why?" "You didn't think you were staying here forever did you? I can't take care of you! Your fate is not to waste away with me, oh Chosen One!" she moved into the sleeping room. "Come on, no arguing! You're going back, and you're going back tomorrow!

* * *

Alone in his quarters, Obi-Wan celebrated. It was very fortunate that the walls of the Jedi Temple were made specifically to block unwanted noise. His uninhibited carousing would have cause quite a stir outside. But unlike Rogue, Obi-Wan was not drunk on any drink or drug. He was drunk on pure happiness. 

It was as though a serious weight had been vaporized off his back in an instant. Anakin was out, having his little vacation. He was safe. He was coming home soon. But for now. . .

"BACK TOMORROW! BACK TOMORROW! I'M FREE AND THEN HE'S BACK TOMORROW!"

Let me assure you, the image is worth a good laugh. Take it.

* * *

Anakin wasn't speaking to Rogue. Partly out of anger, partly out of having too much to say to put into words. He stood still while she cleaned him up, rebandaged his hand and remaining wounds from the gang-fight.

* * *

Obi-Wan paced the length of the Council Room, unease seeping from every pore in a most un-Jedi-like way. The Council watched him in silence, some with sympathy, some with grim determination. "There is nothing more we can do?" Obi-Wan inquired again, and again, received no more reply than a shake of the head from Mace Windu. 

All turned as the doors suddenly opened. For a moment, all was still; then, Obi-Wan bounded forward with a cry. There, on the threshold, stood Rogue Bleidarc; and with her stood his Padawan. Obi-Wan ran to Anakin and picked up the fourteen-year-old happily, ignoring the disapproving frowns from the Council at this outburst of emotion. (Hey, YOU try being responsible for someone called "The Chosen One", losing him, and then having him returned, and not end up crying like a baby!)

The Council members moved forward to question Anakin, and Rogue took the opportunity to make a hasty escape without much hindrance.

She smiled faintly, turned, and headed down the hall. Yet she made it no further than halfway, before a small figure stepped in her path. "Again, Wal-Hali Blaydark returns, again bearing a lost Padawan. Hope, I do, that filled the Chosen One's head with unhelpful thoughts and ideas, you have not." Said Yoda seriously. Rogue smiled. "I did no more than usual, than fate required." Yoda sighed. "Feared this, I did. Unorthodox, your teachings are. Seldom helpful to the Jedi, are they. Wal-Hali, wonder, I do; have yet you found the path the Force has set you? The path often you spoke of." Rogue had to shake her head. "Sir, I do not know. Master Yoda?" "Mmh?" the elderly Jedi looked up at the tall human. "My name is Rogue. Not Wal-Hali. You know I shook that name off with all my connections to the Jedi when I left. So please don't use it, even when I'm forced to return with another one of your lost charges." Yoda nodded knowingly. "Sometimes, not good is it, to shed all things of old. Retain some roots, one must. However, feel I do, that honored your request will be. Feel, I do, that return here again, you will not."

Rogue looked back at Anakin and Obi-Wan. Apparently he was already busy telling them about his adventures. She was glad her home was hidden; if they were to seek her out she'd have to move again. "Tell Anakin not to try to seek me out. Not to come back. We had a good time, but I can't take someone in twice." She requested. Yoda nodded. "He's very strong with the Force, isn't he?" Yoda closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "In him, the Force is. Very strong. Much pain will it cause him. Destined for greatness, he is." He looked up at her again. "But greatness in what, impossible to say. We must watch him." Rogue shifted her weight. "I have to go now. May the Force be with you, Master Yoda." She turned to leave. "May the Force be with you, Wal-Hali Rogue Blaydark."

Rogue finished the length of the hall, and was gone. At the other end, Anakin suddenly remembered that she had been with him. "She was here just a second ago! Rogue! Rogue, where'd you go!" he ran up and down the hall. "Gone, your friend has. Return she will not. Seek her out, you must not." Yoda said. "But."

"Anakin. I think you should listen to Yoda. You need to go to your quarters. Clean up; change back into your robes. Rest. Have something to eat. Go. Now." Obi-Wan commanded. Anakin hung his head. "I didn't even get to say goodbye." he too, exited. Obi-Wan turned to Yoda. "It was Wal-Hali, wasn't it?" Yoda nodded again. "Indeed. Returned your Padawan, Wal-Hali the Rogue did. Watch him, you must. Allow him to leave, you cannot. But if it is his wish."

Obi-Wan looked deep in thought. "Wal-Hali. She was. she was pretty smart." He admitted. "She should be thanked. But I guess it's thanks enough for her to be left alone." He turned to the Council. "I'll see that he gets cleaned up. Then I'll bring him back if you have any more questions." Obi-Wan Kenobi followed his Padawan out.

* * *

From a distance. Rogue viewed the Jedi Temple. She closed her eyes, and let the memories dance through her mind. 

>>"Obi-Wan, you're too quiet. You're going to be on the Council some day." She taunted the young Initiate, two years her senior. "But that'll be good. For you."

>>"What's the matter? Wal-Hali? Are you alright?" her master, so gentle, so kind. "A dream. A nightmare. You said Jedi don't have nightmares!" "Yes, but those that come are Force-sent, and can be helpful. Tell me." The cool hand on her cheek, comforting. "It was about you first. You were in a fight, and I couldn't get to you; no one could. Then you. you were killed. Then it changed. It was one of my friends. Obi. He was yelling, then crying. Somebody was fighting him, but he won. But he wasn't happy. Later, he was older, and someone was crying at him. Fire." "Wal-Hali, I would never be in a situation where no one could help me. Still, tomorrow you can tell the Council."

>>"Wal-Hali, I'm sorry about your master." Obi-Wan placed a hand on his friends shoulder. She looked up, and he was surprised to see she had no tears in her eyes. "I told her. I warned her. But she still left me. I couldn't save her." Obi-Wan thought surely she would cry now, but she didn't. "Kenobi, I told you once you'd be on the Council. But you won't. Keep an eye on your Master. He'll be as foolish as mine one day, but it's more important that you stop him. Don't let him kill himself. He's a fool, but a wise fool."

>>"Master Yoda, I've decided." Wal-Hali stood in the darkened Council Room. "Hm? Decided what?" "I will leave. The Temple." Yoda leaned on his gimmer stick. "Leave, will you? And where will you go?" She'd been waiting for that question. "I'm not sure. I don't think I will go far. I can get work here. But I, whatever I do, can no longer be a Jedi. It's not my destiny. The Force does not will me to die in the same manner as my master. There is something I must do. Something that will come later. It will happen as long as I'm near the Temple, but not in it." Yoda nodded, and shuffled closer. "Seen this, I have not. But feel it, I do. Something great waits for you. But not great fame. Not great for all, no. Subtle, the ways of the Force are. Difficult to discern. Yet this decision I feel is best. You will leave."

>>Memories of a hundred little Padawans, lost and found, ran through her head. How many of them had left the Temple and found their destinies? How many had ignored her words, and died pointlessly, without fulfilling fate? Too many. And now Anakin.

Rogue could see it now. The Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi would be turned. Millions would die at his hands. But now she understood something new.

The Force had a plan. Each person had a place in it, a job to fill. Yet even if they were forced to avoid it, fate found all in the end. The Force would change to conform to the decisions of its symbiots. And the offspring of its original Chosen would take his place. The wounds done to the universe over so much time of degrading would be undone and healed by him. The universe was old, and its life was going stagnant. Rogue could see so far now. Great war and battles were ahead, a huge struggle with something not of the Force. The Force knew it was coming, and had to prepare its people. So there would be wars to cleanse the rot that pierced deep into the very soul of all. And when all was done, it could be renewed by the second generation. This group was dying out, but the young would rise up out of the ashes of the old. But much destruction of that was loved would ensue before rebirth.

Rogue closed her eyes against the images. She knew. She could see all that was to come. Yet it was not her place to tell. The Force unfolded in her, and she felt all the pain that was coming. Yet she also felt the joy at the end. The stale breezes of Coruscant broke her reverie. "Well, it sure seems hopeless for you all. Yoda, doomed for a stagnant swamp. Obi-Wan, to the blade of the one you teach. All of it's doomed. You'll never see the fruits of your labors." She wrapped her cloak around her and turned away from the tall gleaming tower that had once been her home. "Oh well."

While the universe had a complex destiny in front of it, she had a crate full of B'jork beer.

* * *

A short time later, Wal-Hali Rogue Blaydark became one with the Force. And not long after that, she died, leaving behind little more than a broken body, a pile of trash, and a tiny wisp wisdom. All that she had seen came to be, and from another place, she cried and laughed at the sheer futility of it. In the world of the living, her home was ransacked, and her body left in a forgotten apartment in the lowest slums of the city-planet. 

Many years later, after the final battles with the Empire, the buildings that held her remains were destroyed by a construction droid under the command of General Wedge Antilles. And such is the way of the Force.

* * *

End chapter 3 

END TRANSMISSION

**Notes:** Well, it's done. The one major fanfiction I ever actually finished. Begun in summer/fall of 2003, completed in November that same year, and revised January 2006. I was so much younger, so much more naiive.

It's been interesting to look back, and see how I've changed, and how I haven't. And of course, two new movies and a ton more information has come out since then, not to mention the life experiences I've had. If the person I am now had started writing the story back then, it might have been a whole lot different. (For one thing, Rogue would probably have been male. Luckily, the younger me had fewer problems writing female characters than I do now.)

Of course, the whole time my point when writing this was to get around to the lessons on wisdom. My Anakin is probably more out of character than I realize, but the story isn't for him, it's for you, as the reader, and for me, the writer.

So... I guess that's all. Except for a few more apologies. (Sith never apologize! Oops, guess I need to be re-trained.)

Rogue's other name, Wal-Hali, doesn't seem entirely original either, since I've found a couple Hali's not just in fanfiction but in Star Wars canon as well. Again, blame it on young naiivete. I didn't know it then, so I'm clear. Sorry for the major OOC moment for Obi-Wan. You know you loved it really. I also apologize for all this non-story ranting. I hate reading it in other people's fics, why do I do it myself?

Aaaaaaaaand that's all. Thanks again. R&R or I'll do something evil, like take all the slash in the world away and Force-feed it to homophobes.


End file.
